eqenaldOrook 



teMKIie^SsiSWISE 



and the Goldfish 




rib uitsHftHr o^ 



CONGRESS, I 
Two Copicjs RgceivSsI 



tL^^lRegenald Orook 

1 3 > w- •-) 



-» A-,T c^'.nfa F'rt.| ana the Coldftsh 




IDDY OROOK was fond of his book, 

He had often gone with line and no hook, 
To dream in the shade by the babbling brook. 
Or w^atch the shy fish from some shady nook. 

One day Riddy, with his mother, attended the 
show, 
At the town some three miles distance or so, 
There were cages of monkeys, there were zebras and donkeys, 
A large aquarium, with gold-fish aswim. 
Other boys watched the monkeys the zebras and donkeys. 
But our Riddy was not interested in them. 
Our Riddy was longing, for line and hook. 
That he might go fishing, in the babbling brook. 
He was dreaming of goldfish, when suddenly, Oh ! 
He saw the bold cow-boy, throw the lasso. 
Immediately his energies, were all wide awake, 
And he longed for a rope, a lasso to make. 
In his bed that night, he tossed to and fro 
And dreamed he was lassoing, a wild buffalo. 
As the daring cow-boy did at the show. 
Next day the clothes-line, he threw right and left. 
Soon the old turkey gobler, of his head was bereft. 
Then with strenous effort, he caught the fence post. 
Next the black calf was strangled, white as a ghost. 



Soon he caught the wild colt, then with a will 
Threw the lasso on father, and held him quite still. 
Soon over the country, had spread the report, 
That with lasso our Riddy, had become an expert. 
To lasso a wild buffalo, his ambition ran high, 
Or catch a gold-fish, from the stream that flow^ed by. 

There is a great excitement, in tow^n to-day. 
For all the bank's money w^as stolen aw^ay. 
And a badge of deep mourning, hangs on the door. 
The trusted night watchman, lay dead on the floor. 
The trustees called a meeting, and offered reward. 
For the capture of robbers, and return of the hoard. 
For return of the money, one thousand they said. 
And for each of the robbers, five hundred per head. 

Now Mistress Orook, a thorough house-wife was she, 

And had as fine a garden as ever you see. 

She had lettuce and cabbage, and cucumbers there — 

Much she prided herself, on her vegetables rare, 

For Betsy, was thorough and always took pains. 

And was ever considered, a woman of brains. 

When she went for her brass kettle, that hung in the shed, 

" I too have been robbed, of my treasure" she said. 

" Now Rid you must find that kettle straightway. 

Or I cannot green, my cucumber pickles to-day." 

That brass kettle w^as hung, by my grandmother great, 

Fifty feet in the well, to save the pure plate, 

"When the British marched down, on Boston that day — 

In the well that brass kettle, safely hidden away. 

In the house the family, did quietly remain 

While the British searched for treasures in vain. 

" I w^ould rather go catch a gold-fish" said he 

"Or lasso that buzzard, on the high maple tree," 



So he sauntered forth, and a part of the clothes Hne he took, 

And out by the sawmill, found a broken "cant-hook." 

Then he looked for a rod, at the back of the mill, 

While he stood undecided, he kept very still. 

For a stranger was talking, as he sat on a plank. 

Told of the excitement in town, and wreck of the bank. 

Then he leisurely strolled, down the path to the brook. 

As he tied the clothes-line, to the pole and "cant-hook." 

Said he " If I choose, to fish in the dark, 

I know the old 'cant-hook,' w^ould catch a big shark." 

He threw out his line, then threw down his rod, 

And his own slender body, upon the green sod. 

Oh ! Riddy, you simpleton, how long you must wait. 

For I never knew anyone, to catch fish without bait. 

Now Riddy w^as thinking, of the story in his pretty new book. 

Of the gold-fish they caught, without line or hook. 

Then he dreamed that his hat, turned to a glass dish. 

Which he sunk in the water, and caught a gold-fish. 

Then further he thought in his dream, we are told, 

That he found a goose nest, with eggs of pure gold. 

Then partially awake, he turned on his side, 

Down in the still water, the brass kettle he spied. 

Yes it was the brass kettle, a handsome tell-tale. 

He jerked on the line, and reversed the bail. 

But solid and firm, the kettle stood there. 

Said he I will leave, the w^hole outfit right here. 

Then he ran to the house, found his mother alone. 

Who so quick w^itted, said " Now^ don't tell anyone." 

For Betsy Orook w^as wise in her w^ay. 

She tho't of good fortune, and foresaw it that day. 

As she followed Riddy, down to the brook. 

Where quietly lay, the clothes-line and "cant-hook." 

She pulled on the line, "Tis a big fish" said she, 

" Now^ son you must leave, all the planning to me." 



Don't tell anybody, dear boy, for my sake. 
Go quick to the shed, and bring the old garden rake." 
Fleet footed ran Riddy, as fast as a deer. 
Or the hounds and the hunters after a hare. 
With the iron rake, she lifted each bag of gold. 
Then brought up the kettle, so precious and old. 
"We will carry the treasure, out to the deep spring. 
Now, remember my son, don't you tell anything. 
To-night you must help catch the theives, little man, 
You must execute, and mother will plan." 
So they hid the gold in the spring deep and clear. 
They w^orked fast, and kept still, that no one would hear. 
Or see them at work in the pasture field there. 
She called to Orook, who came in a minute. 
We have found the brass kettle, and something nice in it." 
Did the bees carry it off, to store away honey? " 
Oh no something better, 'tis chuck full of money." 
Money," he echoed, gasping for breath, 
Oh Betsey, do tell, you half scare me to death." 
Now Orook, we must think quick, and work fast as well, 
We must catch the thieves, or we will never dare tell 
Of the money we found. We w^ill to-night lay in w^ait 
For the rascles, and the old kettle w^ill serve as a bait." 
" Oh, Oh," said Orook, and he leaped from the floor. 
" Go bring a strong rope," said she, " make haste ! shut the door." 
Then she brought out a horse-pistol rusty and old, 
W^hich belonged to an uncle, so daring and bold. 
For she had descended from good colonial stock. 
Though in this rude world, she had many a knock. 
Oft had she boasted, and she boasted still, 
Of her great grandfather's bravery at Bunkerhill. 

Now they silently steal forth, one by one to the brook, 
First Riddy, then Riley, then Betsy Orook. 



They crouched in the darkness, where none could see, 

Near the fence in the shadow, of an old maple tree. 

" Now^ Betsy, be careful, how you handle that gun, 

I don't like to be near you, don't shoot anyone." 

" Now Riley, don't worry, I just shoot to scare, 

I'll not hit anybody, I'll shoot in the air." 

Orook made a slip noose, in each end of his rope, 

While Riddy prepared a lasso, in the strong hope 

Of lassoing a robber. Now who ever heard 

Of lassoing a robber, to secure a reward. 

" Throw steady my son, hold hard and draw tight, 

Much depends on your nerve, my dear boy, to-night." 

Five long hours in the shadow of the old tree they wait. 

And our brave little Rid, thought it must be very late. 

When he heard a low^ rumbling, though nothing in sight, 

Oh w^elcome the sound, to their strained ears that night. 

" Await my orders, my son, for I have a notion, 

You must let them well past, that they'll not see your motion." 

Slowly the old horse walked quietly by. 

This old bald-faced nag, the show-men had turned out to die. 

W^hen on the night air, the pistol rang shrill. 

The old show horse, had been trained to stand still. 

At that instant Rid threw the lasso, with unerring aim. 

And our atheletic Riley, sprang in the w^agon, and secured the 

game. 
And the night air was blue, with language profane. 
One robber sat there, and silently planned. 
While Betsy still holding the gun in one hand. 
Nor uttered a word. 'Twas all understood. 
That she lead the horse by the bit along the road. 
While Riley and Riddy held the ropes tight, 
Betsey led the old nag, into town that night. 
And well they knew^, 'twas neighbor Tim's voice, 
That uttered the oaths, so loud and choice. 



Tim was an idler, though not quite a fool, 

He did not get his lessons, when he went to school. 

'Tw^as almost morning, when they reached the town, 

Betsy looked pale, Riley's face wore a frown. 

Poor little Riddy, tired and foot sore we know, 

Was thankful he had no further to go. 

The Copps gathered about them. "Here are the robbers," said 

she, 
" We have brought the bank breakers. Rid, Riley and me." 
The Copps to the station, the w^hole outfit took. 
The rig and the robbers, and Betsy Orook. 
The telephone bells, now^ rang loud and long. 
And soon at the station, was gathered a throng. 
The bankers, the Police Chief, the Council and Mayor — 
The Court never convened so early before. 
Betsy was in a great hurry to make her confession 
And that w^as excuse for so early a session, 
" The cows were not milked last night;" she said, 
" All our work was neglected, the calves were not fed. 
I had intended to brew^ yeast to bake bread 
And here I have been catching bank robbers instead. 
And now^ that I have come to think of it at last, 
Rid, Riley and I have had a long fast." 

" Take the horse and drive home," said the Mayor, " but you see 
We will expect you back precisely at three." 
" I don't mean any disrespect your honor to you. 
But please sir may Riddy go along too? " 
"Very w^ell," said his honor, "now^ Chief search the men 
For further evidence of guilt," and then 
They found on Tim's person, oh sad w^as the sight, 
A gold eagle and the watchman's revolver that was stolen that 

night. 
At the sight of which the whole Court turned pale. 
The name on the silver plate told the sad tale. 



The silent, sullen robber had paper bills, no gold did he bring, 

All the gold but Tim's eagle was in the deep spring. 

The sullen robber drew his hat low, but still 

Riddy recognized him as the stranger he saw at the mill. 

Back to the prison they took them, locked safe in the jail, 

For all were convinced they were on the right trail. 

Now this sullen, silent robber had a dark, deep plot. 

To have Tim help load the money, then shoot him dead on the 

spot. 
Poor Tim was only half cunning, half fool, 
And this wicked bad man had made him his tool. 
Now he sat and reflected and the thought did annoy, 
How he had been caught by one man, petticoats and a boy. 
Our ow^n Judge Wise, a man of renown, 

Said he would have liked to see this caravan come into town. 
At their home on the farm, Betsy and Riddy worked w^ith a will, 
Then w^ent out and look'd for more money still. 
Up and down along the clear creek, to and fro. 
Carefully scanning the water, and bank as they go. 
Then under an old log, that lay on the ground, 
A big bag of small sacks, of silver they found. 
" Here we are," said Riddy as he felt of the sack. 
Now I guess we can take all their lost money back. 
And surely we will get the two thousand rew^ard, 
When we take all this money, to banker Edward." 
" Yes, Riddy, how very good it will seem. 
To send you to school, has been my fondest dream." 
" Now^ we'll harness, and hitch up old Dexter you see. 
We are due at Court, precisely at three." 
They were reported at Court, in due time we are told, 
Riddy drove Dexter, and Betsy guarded the gold. 
" I'll carry this gun w^here everybody can see. 
And not get arrested for carrying concealed weapons," said she. 
To the Mayor and Banker, they delivered the hoard. 



)LK. 4 1903 



W^ho counted the money, and gave the reward, 

Which -was paid over to Betsy straightw^ay. 

And Riddy and Riley were witnesses that day. 

Then the Banker, addressing Riddy, said he, 

" 111 make you a present, son, what shall it be ? " 

" On going to school, sir, my mind is bent. 

Mother says I must be educated, or I can never be President." 

" My brave boy," said the Banker, " you shall go to school. 

The place that awaits you cannot be filled by an ignoramus or 

fool." 
To Betsy was presented, of the very best metal, 
In place of the old one, a brand new brass kettle. 
" Dismissed,' said the Mayor, and it is the report 
The old show horse was sold, to pay expense of the Court. 
The Grand Jury found both men guilty, too bad ! 
Tim is the most guilty one they said. 
The gold eagle and revolver, of the dead watchman. 
Proof positive, that he was the guilty one. 
Now the two guilty men, both strangers to Tim, 
Committed the murder, and gave the revolver, and gold eagle 

to him. 
For Tim stayed outside, and without remorse, 
Received the gun and gold, and drove the old horse. 
Tim's " pard " got ten years, Tim got twenty-three, 
While the real guilty culprit, w^as sharp and got free. 
'Twas he who shot the w^atchman, 
And gave the gold eagle, and revolver to Tim. 

Since the robbery, ten long years have passed by, 

In the bank the brass kettle, old rope and " cant-hook " hang high. 

Mr. Edwards, w^ealthy banker, retired, by the w^ay, 

Regenald Orook, is Bank President to-day. 

Tis the banker s daughter whom the gossips say 

Regenald Orook will marry some day. 



